


We Drink Love like Wine

by orphan_account



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Credence Barebone Gets a Hug, Established Relationship, M/M, Morning Sex, Sleepy Kisses, porn without a plot, sweet sweet tooth rotting shameless fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-05
Updated: 2017-07-05
Packaged: 2018-11-23 15:37:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11405400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: They drink up their love like wine, soaking in the waves of pleasure that wash over them while they move together, complimentary motions quickening and blissful mumbled praises increasing the closer they get to orgasm.It's a lazy Saturday morning, Percival and Credence enjoy it with sleepy morning sex.





	We Drink Love like Wine

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to [Rory](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moransroar) I'm now Full Throttle Gradence TrashTM. And we were talking about them having super sweet morning sex and because I am a perv and easily convinced to do these sorts of things, I wrote this. Title and reference comes from [this song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IP65Rm16CKA) which I recommend listening to as you think about them being happy and cry because canon is a cruel mistress.

The morning sun filters in from their bedroom window, through the sheer burgundy curtains that tint both of them in warm colors. 

The young man in his arms shifts, a sure sign that he's slowly started to wake and Percival thinks that this is the Heaven religious No-Majs are always talking about. And how can he not? When Credence is so soft and pliant in his arms. His hair, grown out now, is tousled and a lock covers his nose. Percival pushes it away and it prompts the man to open his eyes, smiling up at him in a way that always makes him feel as in love with him as the day he realized he was all those years ago. It's never waned, it never will. 

"Good morning," Credence says in a voice as soft as how he looks right now, rolling onto his back so he can look up at his lover above. 

"Morning, your breath smells awful," Percival replies but kisses him anyway, a hand on his cheek. 

In the beginning, Credence would have felt self conscious about that and likely would have scrambled away with a mouth full of apologies as if it was his fault for a normal bodily function. But now, all he did was smile into their already sloppy kiss, snaking both arms around Percival's neck and pulling him down so that he was lying atop him. It was Saturday, after all, and they both took every advantage of the fact that they weren't going to be apart for the better part of the day. 

Percival's hands card slowly through Credence's dark hair, down his cheeks and holding at his neck for a moment, a thumb brushing absently over the boy's pulse. He can't resist letting one hand slip down much further, to his waist and up underneath his loose night shirt. In their years together Credence had gained a healthy weight, making his stomach soft and his ribs much less pronounced. His hand smooths up over the sleep-warmed skin, to his pectorals where he gives a pinch to the man's nipple. It makes Credence moan, and encourages Percival to rock his hips against him. 

"Please," he says, clutching at Percival's bare shoulder. 

"I am," he promises, his hand previously on Credence's nipple now flicks upwards and the nightstand's drawer opens. 

He rummages for a moment and finds a rubber and the small jar of lubricant and lets his magic open the lid so he can dip his fingers inside to coat them properly. There is something he always loves about teasing his lover, taking an arduously long amount of time to slick his fingers and actually begin touching him. But today is not the day for that, something for which Credence is glad for when there are wet fingers rubbing around his hole. The pressure, while not fulfilling enough is still wonderful, the promise of what is to come even more so. So he whines, something he knows always drives Percival insane, and spreads his legs wide, arms clutching around the man as if he can't get close or hold him tight enough. 

When Percival presses a finger inside of him after minutes of simply rubbing around his hole, he takes a moment to look down over Credence. With his white shirt rucked up around his waist, cock beautifully pink and hard against his stomach and his face pressed into his neck, muffling moans and whines of pleasure. 

"You're so beautiful," he says with so much awe it could, (and had, in the past) make Credence weep with the thought of how deeply this man cares for him. 

"I love you," is all the younger man can reply with, too hazy minded to form a similar compliment. But they both know that that encompasses everything he could've said. 

Percival gives a quiet laugh, adding another finger and moves his face so he can kiss him. The preparation is slow and thorough as ever, which always reduces Credence to a mess of near constant whines and quiet pleads by the time he is stretched and both are well lubricated enough. And as he pushes inside, slow like the whole tone of the morning has been, he realizes that he was wrong before. 

This, Credence moaning his name and hooking his legs around his waist, lips going slack against his with the first few rocking motions of his hips, is Heaven. 

His one arm is wrapped securely around Credence's back, while his other is between them and stroking his cock at a pace just slower than he is moving inside his lover. Their movements aren't urgent, Percival's thrusts are deep and long, savoring the feeling the hot, tight feeling and the sensation it creates for both of them. He angles just so and moves so he can nudge his prostate, making Credence shiver, pleasure unfurling like pure white heat while he cries out and digs his dull nails into the tanned skin of Percival's back, scraping down. 

"It feels so good, you feel so good," Credence encourages all quiet and pleasure filled. His eyes are closed and their foreheads are pressed together, so they can kiss often and deeply, only broken by the moans and the cursed need to breathe when all they want to do is never let their lips be parted again. They drink up their love like wine, soaking in the waves of pleasure that wash over them while they move together, complimentary motions quickening and blissful mumbled praises increasing the closer they get to orgasm. 

Percival's hand works the head of Credence's cock over and over so the man is both arching into his touch and writhing as much as he can, chest heaving and teeth grinding when Percival's thumb presses over his slit. His hands grip all over the older man's shoulders and arms, finding purchase wherever he can for the moment until he can't take it any longer and has to find a new grip. They both laugh when that new grip is Percival's ass, because try as he might to hide it, he is ticklish there and Credence knows it. 

"I can't," he stops to moans, but regains his breath and continues in his very fake apology, "I can't help it." 

"Oh, yes you can, you didn't try," Percival said, smiling brightly as he squeezes the head one good time, feeling smug when it causes the man to go rigid and spill all over his hand and stomach with a cry of his name like it's the most sacred incantation to be spoken with the utmost reverence. 

That could almost be enough to send himself over the edge as well, but not quite, so he takes both Credence's hands from around him and pins them over his head, thrusting into him in long, hard motions until he too comes mere minutes later. 

"Credence," he pants, slowing his pace gradually, letting go of his lover's hands and wrapping his arms around him as he slowly pulls out. 

They're both breathing hard and still sleepy eyed, but Credence can't help but notice the lovely way the glow of the morning light hits his partner's face and manipulates the shadows to accentuate his cheekbones and the pout of his lips. It makes him look so very handsome and distinguished even minutes after orgasm. He reaches up and brushes back a stray piece of hair and smiles, cupping Percival's cheek and letting his thumb stroke over those two freckles he adores as much as he does the rest of this man. 

"Oh, and for earlier," Percival says like he had forgotten till now, kissing his forehead as they bask in the lazy comfort and the bliss of the love they had just made, "I love you too." 

The light is still filtering through the sheer burgundy curtains in their bedroom, tinting them both in warm colors of red and glinting gold from the curling designs of it in the wallpaper, they are spent and still sleepy and perfectly happy. There is no other way either of them could ever want to spend a Saturday morning.


End file.
